


Warmth

by spartanroses (babybrotherdean)



Category: God of War (Video Games)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 14:11:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15487593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/spartanroses
Summary: He’s certainly too old to sleep against his mother’s breast like a nursing infant, but Father always runs warm and from a purely practical standpoint, it’s the best way to fight the cold. Besides, if he’s quiet, then his parents won’t even notice until they wake up in the morning.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Atreus tries to be sneaky about cuddling. Kratos is a light sleeper.
> 
> I just love platonic cuddling/cuddling for warmth, and. AHHHH <3
> 
> ((also I needed to write something soft. here it is. I'm 50% asleep.))

Atreus wakes to the feeling of shivers wracking his small body. It must be the dead of night; only the faint light of a crescent moon peeks in from the world outside the cabin, and the fire has died down to a few smouldering embers. It’s quiet, but for the sounds of his parents breathing, and for a few minutes, Atreus simply closes his eyes and tries to go back to sleep.

Winters are always harsh, and Atreus is uncomfortably familiar with the effect the weather can have on his body; he hates feeling weak, but it’s hard to avoid in the coldest days of the year. Even now, curled tight under layers of heavy furs, he can’t stop himself from shaking, fingers and toes feeling like they’re ready to fall right off if they have to go through this any longer, and he knows there’s nothing he can do. Not until the sun comes up and chases the cold away, at least for a little while.

But then again…

He opens his eyes once more and looks towards the other bed. There might be one thing he can do.

He’s certainly too old to sleep against his mother’s breast like a nursing infant, but Father always runs warm and from a purely practical standpoint, it’s the best way to fight the cold. Besides, if he’s quiet, then his parents won’t even notice until they wake up in the morning.

With that in mind, Atreus slips out from under the covers, conscious of the brush of his feet against the wooden floor and doing his best not to make a sound. This is something he’s good at; he’s always been light on his feet, and he spends much of his time in the forest, picking his way through the underbrush as quietly as possible as to not scare the animals. The floor doesn’t so much as creak under his weight, and it’s a mere two steps until he reaches the edge of his parents’ bed.

This, he thinks, is the tricky part, because Father rests on the outside of the bed, and his back is turned to Atreus, a wall of protection between his wife and the rest of the world. As his eyes adjust in the dark, Atreus can make out the tattoo that curves down his father’s back, one of a thousand mysteries that surround the man. One day, he thinks, he’ll understand everything.

Today, he thinks, as he shivers in the cold air and curls his toes against the floor, is not that day.

Atreus is careful as he climbs onto the mattress, lip caught between his teeth because he’s nervous about waking his parents, and he’s more careful still when he picks his way over his father’s massive form. He nearly loses his balance, but steadies himself on the man’s arm, heart pounding in his chest for fear of getting caught. Neither his father nor his mother moves, though, and he’s able to continue, working his way down to settle in the small space that exists between them.

As expected, it’s warm here. Warm enough that he doesn’t need to wiggle his way under the covers, but does so regardless; he feels tiny and safe here, like he’s a baby all over again and nothing in the world matters except for his parents holding him close.

He’s so caught up in the comfort that he nearly jumps out of his skin when his father speaks, quiet and rough.

“Boy.” He sounds half-asleep, which is different. Usually, by the time Atreus wakes up in the morning, Father is already awake, or already gone. Rarely has he seen the man in this state. “You are awake?”

Atreus swallows down the momentary panic, because he’s still safe here. Mother sleeps in front of him, breathing softly, and Father has not moved. Atreus can feel the way his voice rumbles in his chest when he speaks. “I was cold. The, um- the fire went out.”

A quiet grunt, and to Atreus’ surprise, Father moves closer. A heavy arm settles across Atreus, all the way over to Mother, bringing the three of them together as they rest. A family. “Stay here, then. Sleep.”

He doesn’t say any more after that, and based on the sound of his breathing, Atreus suspects he’s fallen back asleep. Slowly, he relaxes, and feels himself going the same way, his eyelids growing heavy.

Wrapped up in this little cocoon of warmth and safety and love, Atreus closes his eyes. Maybe he can’t spend every night like this, and maybe he’ll have to settle for shivering in his own bed tomorrow, but for now, he lets himself take comfort in it. Maybe a little bit of enjoyment, too, seeing this quiet, soft side of his father. For now, he settles where he is, content in the knowledge that nowhere in the world is better than this. For now, he breathes, unconcerned by everything outside of this moment.

For now, he lets everything go and falls asleep. The rest of the world will wait until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! <3


End file.
